Seven Years
by Vauseman
Summary: Seven years later and Beca is a successful music producer in LA. After an impaired driving charge and a chance reunion with no one other than Aubrey Posen, Beca is forced to reevaluate her life. Time has changed both the blonde and brunette, but a lingering bond allows them to become important parts of each other's lives. A story of growing up, friendship, and falling in love.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. My first Pitch Perfect fic; one of many that have already been started. I originally started writing all these Beca/Chloe stories, but somehow I fell in love with Aubrey/Beca. I'll be writing for both pairs eventually.**

**Here's the first chapter; it's a bit lengthy. There's not much of a fanbase for Aubrey/Beca so prompts and reviews will let me know that these stories are actually being read! Enjoy :P**

* * *

"Are you serious?" Beca asked. She held the edge of her seat - one hand holding her steady, one hand squeezing the table with a vice grip. She couldn't believe it. Had she really screwed up that bad?

Luke's scowl only deepened as he stayed leaning against the doorway. He shook his head to himself, thumbing through the stack of documents in his hand. He began to read through the list of charges. "Impaired driving, public intoxication, assault with a weapon-"

"- I threw a_ coke can_ at the paparazzi. I hardly think that constitutes as a weapon." Beca interjected, folding her arms defiantly.

Luke raised an eyebrow at the brunette. "But you did throw it."

Beca tightened her lips, looking off to the side. A lecture was the last thing she wanted right now.

"What did you expect, Beca? You're a big name in the industry. There are _always_ cameras and _always_ people watching - so you have to keep it together. How do you expect me to sell your brand when you're on every tabloid with a beer in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other?"

Beca made a noise in exasperation; a throaty exhale of breath. "Oh come on; _it's the music industry_! You can't tell me that everyone else doesn't act like that."

Luke shrugged in dismissal, not allowing her the lenience she wanted. After all, this type of stuff had been happening far too often lately for his liking. "It's not a secret. Every hot shot in LA drinks too much and does too many drugs; but none of them are stupid enough to overdo it before a gig. You're lucky you're not getting jail time."

Beca blinked at him. "Jail time? But I didn't do anything; yeah maybe I had a few too many drinks but- "

"- but you ended up getting plastered, going home with a girl before your gig even started, and you got caught on the way. After the Wires Festival stunt, and now this DUI, are you really surprised that your clients are dropping you?"

"Hold on, Luke-"

"No, you're a mess. You're lucky if anybody takes you in the next year; I would drop you too if I wasn't signed to a contract." Luke said.

Beca is left silenced, searching for a coherent thought to explain herself out of this rut. She genuinely thought he'd be on her side for this one. Usually when she messed up she would just get a slap on the wrist, a talk from Luke, and new project to redeem herself. Maybe this time was different. Beca couldn't seem to gather the right words to defend herself against Luke's harsh blow. Then again, she'd never seen him look so disappointed - and to be honest, she was disappointed in herself as well.

Yes, she knew she messed up; but she never thought her clients would actually _drop_ her. She was a top music producer – these things happen and then they blow over, right? She had lots of friends; somebody would want to hire her. Surely. She had pictures with Rihanna on her studio desk, for Christ's sake.

Luke dropped the folder of documents onto the table, the loud thump pulling Beca from her thoughts. "We've got work to do. You need to sign these court documents first, and then look over the release papers for New Rendition Records." He said, giving her a tight-lipped glance before turning to go. He exited the room, leaving Beca behind to feel like she'd just been punched in the gut.

After leaning in her chair for a few more moments, she finally propped herself up to tackle the rather large stack of paper. Gingerly leafing through the first folder, she sighed. She had lost the biggest contract of her career all because of one reckless night.

It had been a bitch to secure, and here she was now signing the cancellation agreement.

She bit the inside of her lip as she skimmed the document. Her contract was conditional and they had pulled the plug on her only yesterday; apparently they didn't want someone like her to represent their label. She wasn't sure who was more disappointed about it - Luke or herself. It had been the first thing to tumble out of Luke's mouth when he came to bail her out of the drunk tank - how it would be a big blow to her career, how they wouldn't be able to keep it on the down low, how other labels were probably going to do the same. For Luke, it was always about the numbers. On the other hand, it had been Beca's goal to produce music for New Rendition Records for as long as she could remember. So much for that dream.

Beca sighed, contemplating her situation.

Maybe she _had_ turned into a liability. Maybe she needed something new.

* * *

Beca wasn't a huge fan of public transit; but with her license suspended from the impaired driving charge, she didn't have that much choice of getting around. She watched the buildings pass by her in a blur, people-watching as she rode the bus. Beca was headed to an old record store that she hadn't been to in years - her favourite spot when she'd first arrived in LA. Fresh out of college, surprisingly having finished her degree as well, she moved out to LA to chase her dreams. Her father had been right about a degree opening up many more options for her; it was one of the qualifications that helped her land an internship at her first studio. From there, it hadn't been long before she gained popularity within the music industry; her original and energizing approach to mixing music had clients booking her for albums at a time.

Beca got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the record shop. Why hadn't she come back to visit this place in so long? She sighed, entering the store. It was about time she got back in touch with her roots.

The unmistakable, musty smell of old records washed over Beca as soon as she stepped in. Almost immediately, her eyes fluttered shut as she listened to the familiar tinker of the door's bell chime, like a vague, audio-stored memory. She definitely missed this place. Walking to one of the boxes that held the vinyl records, she flipped through them, seeing what she could find. Beca contented herself with a couple The Who vinyls for the time being, rationalizing that she'd have to carry all her purchases on the bus, and that she still needed to grab lunch. After much deliberation, the brunette chose two of her five choices, and spun on her heel to go pay. Beca nearly dropped the two records she had chosen when she came face to face with a familiar head of blond hair. She stopped in her tracks, just in time to keep herself from bumping into no one other than Aubrey Posen.

The older blonde took a step back to avoid the collision, and cradled the drink she was holding. "Are you _trying_ to hip check me across the room?"

There was a moment of silence as the brunette stood arms-length from the expectant blonde, processing her encounter. For whatever reason, Beca found a giant grin plastering itself on her face. She would recognize Aubrey anywhere - and it seemed like the girl hadn't changed at all. Like a ghost from the past, the blonde almost looked timeless; save for the business suit in place of her usual summer dress, she looked as radiant and put together as she did 7 years ago.

"Aubrey?" Beca asked in disbelief. "It's Beca."

The blonde nodded as if that was already a given. "I _know_ that; the ability to recognize faces is an innate feature in everybody's brain-"

Without warning the brunette launched her arms around Aubrey in a warm embrace. She felt the girl stiffen in her grasp, not quite caring that the blonde probably considered this a major violation of her personal space.

"Okay," Aubrey said, peeling Beca's arms off her. "Okay, enough. It's done."

Unfazed, the brunette backed off, putting her hands on her hips. Beca had so many things she wanted to say, she had no idea where to start. She hadn't caught up with any of the original Bellas for years now and she missed her college friends. Just like most extra-curricular activities, the friendships forged were usually left with the memories made. With so many questions resurfacing, Beca found it hard to keep from firing off at her friend from so long ago. "Holy shit, right. What are the chances of us running into each other?"

"Well if you wanted me to do the math-"

"- What are you doing in LA?"

"Actually, I live here; I-"

"- have you eaten yet? Want to grab a bite?"

The blonde's eyebrows furrowed and she held a her hand out. "Stop, I get overwhelmed when I can't address one thing at a time."

"Sorry, just excited I guess." Beca said, hugging her records to her chest. A little more excited than she'd figured herself to be, given the fact that she'd made no effort to contact any of her college friends in years.

Aubrey gave the brunette a rather scrutinizing look. "Evidently."

"Oh don't act like you aren't happy to see me." Beca said, not wanting to be the only one who enjoyed the reunion. She assumed Aubrey felt the same and just had a different, more mellow way of expressing it. At least she hoped so.

"I am pleased. Forgive me if I'm not particularly ecstatic about almost being tackled across the store and then interrogated;" The blonde held out her hand to stop inevitable protest from Beca, tilting her head to the smaller girl. "But I am nevertheless charmed by the chance encounter."

"We need to catch up; want to get a coffee? There's a place up the street." Beca offered, eager to move their conversation to a more comfortable setting.

"Actually, I have a meeting with the owner of this shop at 1pm. I'm late." The blonde said.

Beca checked her watch. "It's only 12:50."

"Like I said, late!" Aubrey exclaimed, and Beca repressed the urge to roll her eyes. The blonde reached into her jacket pocket and produced a business card. "You can call my secretary and leave a message. I'll get back to you within a week."

"So. . . That's a yes?" The brunette asked, tentatively.

"Yes, that's a yes. To coffee." Said Aubrey. She flashed a tight smile before gesturing to the stairs that was labeled 'employee only'. "Goodbye."

Beca blinked at the sudden indication of departure. "Umm, okay. See you soon then." She said.

The blonde gave a curt nod and started to walk away - only to stop, seemingly contemplate, and then finally back pedal. She stood before Beca once more, her stature as rigid as ever; but she spoke in a softer tone. "Hey," She started.

"Yeah?"

Aubrey's lip twitched before answering, her hardened composure faltering for a moment. "If you call, make sure to tell my secretary it's important. That way she doesn't filter it out."

Beca nodded. "Yeah, sure."

The blonde held eye contact for another second. "That's all." She said, going off without a backwards glance.

The brunette who was left behind almost laughed. Yes, that blonde had not changed one bit.

* * *

A week had rolled around since Beca's run-in with Aubrey. She had left a message that night, and she was still waiting on a response. For some reason, she was counting on this. She looked forward to catching up with the blonde now that they were older and established; she was curious as to where everybody's path ended up taking them. She didn't mean to lose touch with all the Bellas, but she just became so busy trying to make it big that e-mails and phone calls became more sporadic and eventually dissipated. She thought back to the community the young girls had built. She wanted that feeling back again. She wanted to be part of something again that meant so much to her.

It wasn't that she was unhappy with how her life had turned out; it just turned out _differently_ than she'd imagined.

Beca couldn't remember the last time she just made music for the fun of making music. Working in the music industry was strange in that way - it objectified art; made it something quantitative and linear. These days, whenever Beca was in the studio it was just work; she was always trying to impress someone or working to encompass a sound that her clients wanted. Originally, Beca had started out making her own mixes, but as her career progressed she ended up almost exclusively sound engineering for other artists. This change in direction was pushed upon her because it came with more recognition, money, and opportunity - and of course she listened to her manager's advice. It was novel and exciting, and Beca was damn good at it. . . But where was the turning point? At which point did she lose herself in the contemporary culture of fame and glamour? Somewhere along the line, Beca became a mess. When did other people have to start taking care of her? She had always been so independent.

She sighed.

Beca was at a point in her life where things were shaky. She figured a little touch with home base might be good for her health.

As it stood, she really did miss college. Even if Aubrey was her only connection to her Georgia life, the girl was great when she wasn't being a bitch. Then again, a nostalgic Beca sort of admired the bitch part.

Beca had been sitting at home and eating in front of her TV when Aubrey called.

"Hello?" The brunette answered.

"May I speak to Beca Mitchell?" The voice on the other line asked.

"This is her."

"Hello Beca, this is Aubrey."

"I can tell."

"How?"

"Your voice; I recognize it. And mannerism, and enunciation, and I have caller ID." Beca offered.

"I don't remember you being so talkative, Ms. Mitchell."

"Dude, ew. Don't Ms. Mitchell me."

"My apologies. You still have a rather drabby vocabulary, however."

Beca could have rolled her eyes. "Whatever man."

"I have a vacancy in my schedule if you still wanted to go for coffee."

"Sure, I'm free whenever." Said Beca. It was true - she had learned pretty quickly that there was no work for her for the time being, as she had no willing clients.

"Fantastic. Let's meet at the Starbucks on Central Avenue tomorrow at 7am."

"Unfortunately, I'll be sleeping at that time." Beca said. Seven in the morning? Who wakes up that early unless they have a flight to catch?

"Okay, 7:30am then. I'm going to be in business casual so there's no need for you to dress up."

"Uhh,"

"Confirmed?" Prompted Aubrey.

Beca shrugged to herself. _Whatever_. "Sure."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Aubrey."

* * *

Beca didn't think she could look worse for her coffee meet up. She had inevitably woken up late, threw her hair into a messy bun, and pulled some jeans on before hailing a cab. When she arrived at the Starbucks, Aubrey was already there, waiting patiently with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Unwilling to pay $5 for a latte, Beca ordered a black coffee and sat back down with the blonde.

The brunette had a bit of anxiety for the meeting. Yes, she definitely wanted to catch up, but her and Aubrey had never really been on the same foot before. They hated each other when they first met, reconciled only shortly before their final Bellas performance, and then Aubrey graduated. Her and Chloe had shown up to the following year's ICCA performance where the Bellas reclaimed their first-place title, and then the year after that it was only Chloe. Beca had never really had a relationship with Aubrey, and it was obvious that whatever bond they created hadn't lasted the test of time.

However, when Beca engaged with the blonde again for the first time in years, all was well. The conversation was light and easy between the two. Perhaps age had helped iron out their differences.

The two talked about their careers; Beca only having to touch upon her recent blight before Aubrey quickly mentioned that she saw the tabloids. It turns out that Aubrey had been doing well for herself too. Not that Beca was surprised; she knew that the blonde and her A-type personality would find success wherever she went. Much to her father's distaste, Aubrey ended up pursuing a career in the entertainment business as well. She co-owned a large company that facilitated, supplied, and rented out the stage and set up equipment for concerts and events. Her company, appropriately called High Note, was currently undergoing an expansion project to partner with local music equipment, record stores, and recording studios. It was a lengthy process that would help them monopolize LA's vast music industry. In addition to that, Aubrey sported a rather large rock on her engagement finger. Her fiancee worked in her father's law firm and constantly travelled around, allowing both Aubrey and his schedules to coincide for the most part.

The biggest surprise was when Beca asked about Chloe. It almost sounded fake when Aubrey told her the news.

"She's a Dutchess in Luxembourg. She literally married a duke."

Beca had trouble processing this in one sentence.

"Chloe Beale is now a dutchess in Luxembourg?" Beca repeated.

"Yes, and happily so." Aubrey offered. "You'd be surprised at the level of chivalry from the european royal family; they are a joy to be around."

"I don't know if you're shitting me,"

The blonde scrunched up her nose at the foul language. "That doesn't even deserve a response."

Apparently a lot can happen in 7 years, including marrying into royalty. Beca shook her head, almost speaking to herself now. "That girl can charm the hell out of anybody."

"Among other things." Aubrey commented.

Beca hadn't thought about the redhead much in recent years, but she'd be lying if she didn't acknowledge the big crush she had harbored for Chloe in college. She had been introverted and rather mouthy in her college days, which served to limit her ability to socialize, but she seemed to have made an instant connection with Chloe. She wished it had been easier for her to build relationships and the redhead had made it look so easy. Maybe that is what drew her in. It was strange though; because even though Chloe was beautiful and complete girlfriend material, Beca felt that if the redhead were to barge into her life right now she wouldn't have the same feelings for her as she did in the past. Things had changed. Beca wasn't that same teenager who dreamed of making it big and getting away from her boring and privileged suburban life. She had grown up and her needs were different now.

Beca had gotten better at socializing since it was a key part of her job. In her earlier years, she needed someone who could get her to open up and would take the initiative as a partner - someone like Chloe. As of late, Beca recognized the part of her that desired a partner who was steady and ready for commitment, but also let her have her independence - someone like . . . Well, she'd didn't really have anyone in her life like that at the moment. She was sure they were just lurking around the corner, figuratively speaking (she hoped). Perhaps having a social circle of entertainers and club-goers wasn't the best pool of potential mates.

After covering the general topic of where the Bellas were in their lives, the conversation moved on to other areas of interest: what it was like for Aubrey to run her own company, did Chloe enjoy Luxembourg or would she rather live in America, what kinds of things Beca did with her spare time, the best places to eat in town, the most reliable source of industry media (tabloids were obviously ruled out). In the two-hour time slot that Aubrey had allotted them, they had ventured off into topics of an increasingly random nature. Not that Beca minded. In fact, it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't really into the club scene. She found Aubrey interesting in such a particular way that she involuntarily recommended a place for their next meet up.

The blonde raised an eyebrow.

"So you're under the assumption that we're meeting again next week." Aubrey stated, her expression curious (borderline smirk, be it what you will).

Beca bit her lip. "I mean, well; if we did have lunch that is where I'd want to take us. They have great sushi. If you wanted to go. . . I didn't really think this would just be a one time thing."

"You want to hang out again?"

"Uhm," Beca stumbled. She was having a hard time forming coherent sentences. Aubrey was nice to be around, but she could be so intense and aggressive sometimes - which was code for 'all the time'. "Do you?"

"Well it's a yes or no question. Either this coffee date was successful in achieving your desired goal and you would like to potentially repeat the engagement, or it was unsuccessful in reaching the desired outcome you had previously established when agreeing to said engagement." Said Aubrey, folding her hands onto the table.

"What? Uhm, the first one." Beca said. Why did Aubrey have to be so god damned wordy all the time?

Aubrey smiled. "Good."

* * *

The following week Beca attended a court hearing concerning her DUI and was sentenced a fine and 100 hours of community service. It just so happens that she was stationed for 50 of those hours at a dog pound outside the city, twice a week until the hours were up. The commute proved to be a bitch without her license, but Beca did have a secret love for animals. As instructed by Luke, Beca was keeping things on the down low until her negative media coverage blew over. She'd take some shifts at venues that asked her to spin, but for the most part she was going to stay away from the party scene until her community service hours were fulfilled.

Aubrey and Beca met up for their scheduled lunch the following week, and Beca had the pleasure of watching Aubrey squeal as she accidentally ate a forkful of wasabi. The girl had pretty much zero spice tolerance.

After that, they didn't see each other for the next three weeks because of conflicting schedules. Beca almost took the lack of communication as a sign of her dismissal of their reignited friendship, but was pleasantly surprised when she received a text from the older blonde, asking for another morning coffee date. It went on like this for a while, one would contact the other every so often to create new plans. It didn't take long for the meetings to become less sporadic and more insinuated - of course, Aubrey needed to make a routine out of everything.

Beca embraced the new stability of the friendship as a substitute for her earlier habits of constantly working or partying. Her work social circle was still pretty pissed about her being MIA for her last gig. She let her fans and workmates wait for an empty stage that night. Not cool.

But she was paying the price little by little, and she knew it'd come around.

Not that Beca minded the change of pace. For the most part she just worked on some new mixes from home, spun about once a week, and went to the shelter to complete her community service.

It wasn't the most exciting time in her life.

Truthfully, Beca had come to really look forward to hanging out with Aubrey because it _was_ the highlight of her week. It was a strange phenomenon that they had met by chance after all these years, and even stranger that Beca took so much comfort in their friendship. So much, that Beca found herself anticipating Aubrey's texts or calls, and becoming anxious if they didn't appear for days at a time. She chalked it up to her situation. She was in a transitory period in her career that left her feeling low in the self-esteem department, as well as lacking social stimulation - of course she needed a friend; especially one who wasn't holding a grudge against her for past faults. At least that's what she reasoned with herself.

But it couldn't just be one way. If Aubrey didn't like her company, then she wouldn't be agreeing to make plans all the time. Lord knows that the blonde would have no qualms telling Beca she wasn't worth her time. Hell, Aubrey had a business to run, a fiancee to see, _and_ she was still seeing Beca on a regular basis. The brunette had to be doing _something_ right.

* * *

The blonde showed up at Beca's building at 8pm sharp on Friday evening. Deciding to go down to let her in, opposed to buzzing her up, Beca threw on a hoodie and headed down the stairs. When she opened the door, she took in the sight of the blonde before her. Complete with side swept bangs, Aubrey was wearing a tight-fitting black dress and matching heels.

"You did not understand me when I said to dress casual." Beca said, looking down at her own sweatpants-sweatshirt attire.

Aubrey cocked her head to the side. "This_ is_ casual. These heels are like 2-inches."

"Which still puts me at shoulder length." The brunette rolled her eyes and ushered Aubrey in. "Come on. It's on the 6th floor."

Beca followed the blonde up the couple of steps to the elevator lobby, trying not to be distracted by the rather generous view her angle was presenting her with. It could have been that Beca hadn't been laid since before her DUI, but with Aubrey in her black dress, it almost wasn't fair.

Riding up the elevator, Beca decided to give her disclaimer. "Sorry if the apartment is messy, I just came from the pound." Beca said. She had made a conscious effort to clean it before she left earlier, but she knew Aubrey would find things to comment on.

"Please, I survived your dorm room at Barden. I think I'm equipped for anything now."

Beca let herself smirk as she led the way down the hall and opened the door to her flat. She watched Aubrey carefully for her reaction, but the blonde did a pretty good job of keeping her thoughts to herself - save a few lingering glances at the shoe pile and coat hanger. That, or maybe she didn't find the place too misfitting to her expectations. Most likely the first option_. _

"Not bad, Beca." Aubrey said, nodding her head slightly.

"Thanks." Beca responded, knowing it was the most approval she'd get from this girl. "I'll grab some drinks, you can sit on the couch."

The blonde moved to the couch while Beca retreated to her kitchen. She had bought some white wine from France, based on a comment she remembered from one of their earlier get togethers. Fetching an ice bucket and some glasses, the returned to find Aubrey shuffling through the rows of CDs on her shelf.

"Find something you like?" Beca asked as she placed the cups down. She unscrewed the cork and started pouring the wine.

The blonde finished rearranging the top row before answering. "Just organizing them into alphabetical order." She said, dusting off her hands. Aubrey looked back at the brunette. "You're a hoarder, you know that? Don't you have an mp3?"

"Hey now, I'm a collector, not a hoarder." Beca defended herself. "Those things are gonna be worth a lot one day; when everything goes digital and people start asking what vinyl or CD-ROM is, I'll educate them with my records. Plus, they have sentimental value to me."

"Sentimental value?" Aubrey repeated. "But there are so many."

"Try me."

The two women locked eyes, and Aubrey evidently accepted the challenge - turning back to the collection. She allowed her fingers to slide across the spines of each CD case, a look of determination overtaking her features. She stopped and pulled one out near the end. "What's the story behind this one?"

Beca walked over, taking it from the blonde and holding it in her own hands. It was the Beastie Boys, Hello Nasty album from 1998. A smile grew on her face as she conjured up the memory, and she loosely waved it in the air. "Up north. Summer of 2003 when I was ten, my mum and dad used to take me out to the cottage and we'd always rent a boat for the season. That was before they split, though. But yeah, my dad would take me fishing all the time and I got to bring my keyboard up there to make music. He would play that CD the whole drive there and back."

"Beca Mitchell on a boat? But where would you plug in your laptop?" Aubrey asked, her face taking on exaggerated concern.

"I know, my life was so hard." Beca said, her face mimicking the intended sorrow.

The blonde laughed and nodded in approval. "Okay; this one." She said, pulling out Laura Marling's Alas I Cannot Swim album.

Beca jumped right in. "2008; I ordered it the day it came out. She was the start of my British folk music phase. I would've killed to see her tour with Marcus Mumford back in the day." Beca sighed. "But I wasn't legal and she only played in lounges. Seeing as I've looked 12 years old my whole life, I missed the opportunity."

Aubrey was pleasantly surprised. "I'm impressed, Mitchell. Do you have a story behind all of these CDs?" She asked.

"Most of them." Beca answered. "Some of them are just good music."

Aubrey let her hand graze the titles again and picked out another CD. "How about this one?"

Beca felt a smirk spreading onto her lips as she took it from the older blonde. "Doo-Wops & Hooligans, Bruno Mars." She started. "Firstly, this album was playing when I first . . . The time I . . . Well;"

"The first time you what?"

The smirk on Beca's face grew even larger. "You know. . ."

Aubrey's eyes widened. "Oh God, keep that to yourself!" She cried.

"Oh come on, you asked! Plus we're both adults here."

"You seriously lost your virginity to Bruno Mars?" Aubrey asked.

Beca shrugged, never really feeling self-conscious about it until right then. "It was summer time, it fit! Alright fine, what song did you lose yours to?" She shot back.

Aubrey shook her head. "That's private."

"I told you mine!"

"And it was totally lame." Aubrey said.

"Oh my God, stop judging. Here, take your wine." Beca said, handing Aubrey her glass. She watched as Aubrey swirled the wine around in the glass, aerating it before taking a sip.

"Is this French?" Aubrey's tongue moved in her mouth, considering the flavor.

"Yes."

"French white wine is one of my favourites." Aubrey commented.

Beca smiled to herself; she already knew that. She took a sip of her own wine and continued. "Anyways, I was also going to say: Just the Way You Are is on that album. So it's also sentimental because it reminds me of when we were in the pool with the Bellas, and you picked that song for us to sing."

"Oh God,"

"What?" Beca asked.

"Don't lump together the Bella's and losing your V-card, it'll deteriorate the history of acapella."

"Shut up."

Aubrey placed the CDs back onto the shelf and went to sit beside Beca on the couch. "That was a good day, though. I was really proud of you."

"Really?" Beca asked, and the two shared a sideways glance.

"Oh stop grinning like that,"

"-I'm not grinning."

"You're grinning like a wolf. And I'm just saying, it was a good mix."

Beca couldn't help but feel warm with Aubrey's approval. She knew they kicked ass that day in the pool, but it nice to hear the older blonde say it. "I thought you hated me back then, you know."

"I didn't hate you." Aubrey answered.

"You yelled at me all the time!"

The blonde laughed into her glass. "Yeah, because you really sucked at first."

"Hey-"

"And it's acapella. I had to make sure we were the best."

The brunette chuckled, taking a good look at her old friend. How strange it was to be reminiscing on college days and sharing a glass of wine with Aubrey Posen. Seven years later and of all people, Aubrey was the only one still in her life. Beca offered her a genuine smile. She was sure that whatever she did and wherever she chose to go, the blonde sitting beside her would always be the best. It was in her nature.

Beca slouched back into her couch, getting comfortable. "You bring your movies, Bree?"

* * *

**Well, there it is. I'll have chapter 2 up sometime soon. This story will probably be 3 chapters.**

**Yeah, I guess I had a little fun sending Chloe off to Luxembourg. Shoot me. Oh, and it's set so that it's 2020 (so when the movie came out it was around 2013ish and it's been 7 years).**

**Let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I really appreciate the reviews guys! I'll keep trying to hammer this story out as well as the other one I've got up right now.**

**Important: Yes, I did delete this chapter and re-post the edited version - a drastically different version, as you can tell. I re-read the old one and realized that in my haste, it completely missed the tone and purpose I was going for. So, I wrote this up - it's still short, but it's tweaked to better serve the story. **

* * *

It had been about five months since the Aubrey thing. '_Thing'_ being the little meet up in the record shop that progressed into a full-blown friendship between the two women. The past handful of months consisted of meet-ups whenever their busy schedules allowed it- sometimes they would see each other three days in a row, other times they'd go weeks with just a text in between. This would be one of those times. Beca hadn't seen Aubrey in nearly three weeks due to the blonde's latest merger at work, and a short vacation to New York to visit her fiancee's family. Beca would be lying if she said she didn't miss the girl.

The brunette had just finished one of her last shifts at the dog pound and was anxiously waiting for the blonde to pick her up. With her community service term pretty much finished, Beca felt the need to do something about her plateaued career. Luke had recently presented her with a few offers from smaller clients, but Beca wasn't really interested in starting a new contract with artists she didn't know. In fact, she'd been feeling inspired lately to produce some originals. She wanted to run it by Aubrey first, however. The blonde always knew what to do.

Aubrey strolled into the facility at 3pm on the dot, and if looks could kill . . . Aubrey would have a long trail of bodies.

That was the other thing.

Sometime within the past few months, Beca started looking at Aubrey _differently_. Not that she'd ever admit it, but Beca had developed a crush on the gorgeous blonde. A teeny, tiny crush that would in no way affect their friendship or her behaviour towards the older girl. . . Nope, not one bit.

Not even when they sat on the sofa, their legs eventually tangling up whenever they would watch a movie. Not when Aubrey would come up behind Beca on her laptop and wrap an arm around her neck, asking about her new mixes. Not when Beca found _herself_ being the one to initiate the hug before they parted; or caught her own gaze lingering on the blonde when she was busy in the distance. And not when Aubrey passed out on Beca's bed that one night and Beca thought she was the most beautiful, graceful, snoring little monster in the entire world. Yep, definitely not then.

. . .

Fine. It wasn't like Beca even had a chance though. In fact, Beca could not understand how so many people could know Aubrey and not follow her around like a lost puppy.

It was the way that the blonde asserted herself that Beca admired. Aubrey had such a strong, domineering personality; her way of speaking, her thought process, her ability to take her resources and turn it into success - let's not even get into discussing her looks - were all things that slowly drew Beca in. Even small things that had originally annoyed or distanced the brunette, she learned to find endearing.

Beca kept her thoughts at bay, however; because Aubrey was off limits.

She was engaged to be married and that was that. Not to mention how weird it would be for them to date - they were such good friends at this point; she didn't want to do anything that might tip the balance. Liking Aubrey Posen was a bad idea in itself, and so Beca pushed it to the back, furthermost parts of her mind.

_Although_, it didn't stop Beca from visually admiring her friend every now and then - such as in the current moment, when the blonde marched into the dog pound calling every set of eyes to her attention.

Underneath her spring trench coat, Aubrey was dressed in snappy business attire from her earlier meeting. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her pursed lips were painted a vibrant red. She didn't look all too pleased.

The dogs in the kennel barked at the new visitor furiously, earning a forceful "_Shh!_" from Aubrey and a pointed finger. The dogs immediately went silent.

Beca smiled at the dramatic entry. "Congratulations. You're terrifying." She said, crossing her arms in amusement.

The corner of the blonde's eyes creased as she gave the brunette a look. "I just spent the last 3 hours arguing with some complete_ assholes _about why they can't just steal my Bayside merger." Aubrey said, almost stomping as she came to a halt in front of her friend.

"Someone's trying to take your merger?" Beca asked, suddenly concerned.

"No," Aubrey responded, huffing an angry breath. "They _already did_!"

Okay; now Beca understood why the blonde was so angry. This couldn't be good. Aubrey had been working on this project since before Beca and her even met, and had spent the past month ironing out the conditions and administrative part of the agreement. It was supposed to be a game-changer for Aubrey's company.

"Well maybe you can fight it," Beca suggested. "Who took it?"

"Fucking New Rendition Records."

Beca blinked. "What?"

"I know. It's fuckery. The documents had already been signed, but New Rendition found a loophole that allowed them to buy out the company. Fucking grimy dirty dickweed two-faced executives, doing negotiations behind my back. Those stocks should be _mine_!" Aubrey tightened her lips as a faint red glow worked its' way up to her cheeks. "Excuse my French."

Beca didn't know whether to laugh at the blonde's colorful language, or continue to be very concerned. She hadn't seen Aubrey this pissed off since . . . Well, ever. Take the annoyed face Aubrey had made the time Beca stole her cup at auditions, and then times that by 10,000. Beca decided to just let the girl vent. "But why would they want Bayside? They're an industry giant on their own."

Aubrey shook her head. "They don't want Bayside - they just don't want another competitor in the market. If I had the merger, my company would easily be head-to-head with them and their other labels."

"Sounds like they're scared of a little competition."

"They're not scared - _they're dirty_. I wouldn't do business with them even if my career depended on it." Aubrey said with a huff.

Beca decides to tactfully omit the fact that New Renditions was and always has been her dream label. Instead, she crossed over to the blonde and placed a tentative hand on her forearm. "You okay?" She asked, knowing she wasn't very good at the whole comforting thing.

"I'll be fine."

"What are you going to do?"

The blonde crossed her arms. "Well, John wants to try to sue them for everything they've got. He wants to represent the case himself." Aubrey said. Beca bit the inside of her lip: John was Aubrey's fiancee. "I'm not sure if I want to take it in that direction. It'll be messy."

"You wanna talk about it? Let's grab some food and head back to my place." Beca suggested. After all, they _were_ still standing in a dog pound. Beca assumed that the blonde had been so terrifying that not even the other volunteers on shift wanted to tell them to take their issues outside.

Aubrey agreed to getting food, but passes on the going back to Beca's place (she had lots of calls to make tonight). They go out to a little Pho restaurant near Beca's apartment, because it's a Vietnamese food kind of day. Over their meal, the blonde keeps mentioning her indecision about starting a lawsuit against New Rendition. It's not long before Beca realizes that it's not Aubrey who's pushing the subject, it's John. Apparently, he can be very opinionated. It doesn't take Beca too many questions before Aubrey decides to ban the subject of her fiancee from the table, and instead launches into telling the brunette about a new lemon detox she wants to try. Talk about having no transition.

When Aubrey drops Beca off, they share and hug and Beca gets out of the car - but not before asking a simple question.

"Bree?" Beca asks, hanging onto the frame of her open door.

"Yes?"

"How come you never let me meet John?"

The blonde frowns slightly. "I didn't know that you wanted to."

"He's a huge part of your life that I know nothing about; isn't it weird that we've never met?"

"I've never given it much thought. But if you want to meet him, I can arrange something."

There's a pause. Beca didn't particularly want to meet John, she was only wondering why Aubrey hadn't made the move to have them meet. In fact, up until today, the blonde hadn't really mentioned him in all the time Beca and her had spent together. Was she over thinking it- or was it weird? Unable to articulate her thought process, Beca gives a small smile instead. "A guy who could win over the Posens? I'd like to meet him."

* * *

It's a Sunday night and the studio is empty, save for Aubrey and Beca sitting in the only lit room in the building.

Unable to find an artist she approved of to do background vocals for her mixes, Beca had run into a rut with her originals. She didn't want to use her own voice, because then she'd never want to hear it being played (which is essentially super counter-productive). It hadn't taken long for Beca to call up Aubrey and beg her give it a shot. _  
_

_"I don't sing anymore, Beca."_

_-"It doesn't mean you can't!"_

_"It also means I don't want to."_

_-"Come on, just one night. Give me one hour of studio time and I'll show you how great you sound."_

_"You haven't heard me sing in 7 years, Beca."_

_-"But I've remembered it every day since."_

_"Stop kissing ass; I am absolutely not singing for you.__"_

_-"Aubrey. . ."_

_"No."_

_- "Bree. . ."_

_"I'll hang up on you."_

_-"PLEASE!"_

_"Dear lord, my ear drums."_

Give or take, it took a couple more phone calls of similar harassing nature to drag the blonde out and into the studio. Beca had just finished showing Aubrey the mixes she wanted to work on for the night. There was one track in particular that she wanted Aubrey's vocals for - a sort of retro mash up for two hit singles that were popular nearly a decade ago. We Found Love by Rihanna, and Titanium by David Guetta. Maybe it was a little out of Aubrey's element (clearly, the songs were not from _far enough_ to into the past), but Beca was sure she could do great if she just let loose a bit. And she _was_ doing great. Sort of.

As of yet, the current situation had Beca wondering if she should fetch a bucket.

"You still throw up when you're stressed?" Beca asked, giving the blonde a concerned look.

Aubrey jutted out her chin, unabashed. "It _happens_, okay? Doctors say it's a healthy expression of my sympathetic nervous system."

"Are you going to be-"

"- I'll be fine. I just haven't sung in a while, and so I'm nervous."

"I didn't know you could _get_ nervous." Beca said, receiving a rather dirty look from her friend.

"I'm not a machine, you know."

Beca shrugged. "Debatable."

To be fair, if anybody had the machine-like tendency to compartmentalize everything and anything, it was Aubrey. Hell, one look at Beca's apartment and anyone could tell Aubrey had been there - that, or Beca had finally invested in some much needed home cleaning services. Not very likely for the short brunette.

It was like Beca had gotten a roommate she'd never asked for. A roommate that touched everything.

The blonde, who had been crouched over with a hand on her stomach, straightened up. "You know, I am doing _you_ a favor and I can leave anytime, shorty." She asserted.

Beca let out a chuckle. "_Shorty_? It only took you five months to bust that one out."

"Well, I didn't want to make you self-conscious of being 3-foot nothing." The blonde quipped.

Beca crossed her arms, accepting Aubrey's challenge with a smirk. "It's convenient being short; y'know, being able to stretch without hitting the ceiling."

"- I bet it's convenient to still pass for children's admission at the cinema." The blonde added, taking the banter in stride.

"That, and being able to walk outside without my head entering the heavens,"

"- walking under a horse and not even noticing."

"Not hitting birds with my face."

"- not having far to fall when you trip."

"Less chance of being struck by lightning." Beca grinned. "Are you jealous yet?"

Aubrey bit back a laugh. "Oh certainly." She drawled, regarding the brunette in amusement.

Beca nodded to her mixing station, trying to get them back to work. "Pull up a chair, blondie. I'll show you what we have so far."

Aubrey sat beside Beca and the brunette placed a pair of giant headphones on the blonde's ears. It looked a little silly, but not necessarily misfitting for the business woman. Beca couldn't help but bite back a smile at how the headphones seemed to take up half of her friend's head. She played back the twenty seconds that they had been able to record before Aubrey started feeling sick, letting Aubrey hear it for herself.

Aubrey bobbed her head to the beat while listening, taking off the headphones and leaving them around her neck when she was done.

"That sounded awesome." She said, excitement in her voice.

Beca tilted her head. "_You_ sounded awesome."

"Yeah, all four seconds of my voice?" Aubrey asked.

The brunette shrugged, leaning forward and dangerously close to Aubrey's face. She carefully unhooked the headphones from around the blonde's neck, and placed them onto her own. "Well, that's why you're gonna go back in there and do the rest of the song." She said, letting her eyes flick to the recording booth and then back to the blonde in front of her.

Beca was very aware of how close she was to Aubrey. She allowed herself a peek at Aubrey's lips, usually pursed so tight - now resting in an amused half-smile. If she just leaned in _just a few more inches_, she would be able to press her lips to Aubrey's . . . But feeling like she'd already crossed the line of the blonde's personal space, Beca quickly let herself fall back into her chair.

The blonde stayed put, cocking an eyebrow slowly.

"What?" Beca asked.

Aubrey moved her shoulders with a measured shrug. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

The blonde's lips were pulled into a tight line once again. "How many of your clients have you slept with?"

Beca nearly jerked out of her chair from the question. She crossed her legs, trying to mitigate the discomfort. "W-what?" She sputtered.

Aubrey's eyebrow raised to join the other. "That many? Interesting."

"I don't sleep with my clients." Beca said, feeling the need to defend herself. She let her expression turn sheepish. "Well, at least not while I'm working with them."

"Oh, how very noble and professional."

Beca let out a laugh, dismissing the comment. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous right now."

The blonde shot her a terrifying look and let out a short_ 'pffft_'. "Please, as if I'd want STD-riddled girls anywhere near me." She said, her nose upturned towards the ceiling - a habit of hers when it came to defending her honor, so it seemed.

"Or maybe you just don't want them anywhere near _me._" Beca teased, enjoying how it easy it was to rile up the blonde. Though said in jest, the blonde's response caught her by surprise.

Aubrey squared her shoulders, keeping fierce eye contact with her friend. "Believe me, Mitchell - if I was interested in bedding _you,_ I'd have you flat on your back faster than you could fall."

The brunette felt her breath hitch. She didn't doubt that for a second.


	3. Chapter 3

**LOL to the 'guest' that says if I don't finish this, they'll cry. . . I do plan on finishing it :P**

**On another note, I'm not a fan of OCs, so the ones introduced in this chapter will most likely stay in this chapter.  
**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dinner came faster than Beca would have liked, from the couple days prior when Aubrey had announced that arrangements were made. 6pm dinner reservations for a _double date_. Excuse her.

Apparently it was supposed to prevent Beca from being a third wheel.

As it turned out, meeting John was just as awkward and uncomfortable as she expected. Although originally agreeing to the double date, Beca starting peppering Aubrey with complaints that she had no one to bring. An impatient Aubrey had eventually stated '_bring anyone_, it could be an ex girlfriend for all I care'; and to the blonde's dissatisfaction, that's exactly what Beca decided to do.

Not that Beca wanted to bring her - it just so happened that the girl conveniently messaged Beca that week to say she was back in town, and was interested in rekindling their friendship. So instead of accepting the ex-girlfriend's request for coffee, she offered to take her to dinner to meet her best friend and her best friend's fiancee.

And that accounted for the other blonde at the table.

"This is Denise," Beca introduced, as the two settled into their seats.

Beca was a bit nervous for the meeting, not knowing what to expect. Aubrey looked as stunning as ever, wearing a dress that was both casual and elegant - her fiancee in a crisp dress shirt (gosh, she could still see the creases where it had been folded) and immaculately styled hair. Talk about preppy couple of the century. God help her.

On the other hand, Beca wasn't sure about how they would receive her own date. Denise was a petite little thing, in a petite little dress, and was _apparently_ already tipsy from an earlier activity. This presumption was denied verbally, but reinforced by the fact that the girl was practically sitting in Beca's lap, fawning over her. And they'd only been seated for a few seconds.

Pleasantries were exchanged and Beca managed to throw Denise back onto her own seat, already regretting her choice of date. Maybe she had given Denise the wrong idea - she had no interest in getting back together with the blonde, and definitely had no interest in practically being mounted at the dinner table.

The interaction obviously didn't go unnoticed, and Aubrey politely cleared her throat before speaking. "So, how do you two know each other?" Aubrey asked. She glanced between Beca and her date, a glint of scrutinizing curiosity in her expression.

Beca hadn't mentioned her before.

"How _don't_ we know each other, is what I think you're saying." Denise interjected, using a knowing tone that made Beca want to melt through the floor. The smaller blonde linked an arm through the brunette's. "Plus, who doesn't know Beca Mitchell." Denise added with a giggle. She gave a strange face that suggested she was trying to be seductive with her flattery - in which Beca's response was to back her face away immediately, regardless if it resulted in a double-chin.

Turning her head, Beca made brief eye-contact with Aubrey - whose expression looked to be an equal mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Forgive me," John said, processing the interaction in front of him with surprise. "I seem to be the latecomer. I wasn't aware you dated girls."

The blonde hadn't told her much about John, but it seemed that she hadn't told John much about herself. Beca hid her own surprise with sarcasm. "I see Aubrey has told you so much about me." Beca gave her friend a look that could be equated to '_really, dude_?'

Aubrey merely shrugged. "I don't think sexual orientation should be a defining characteristic when regarding someone you've never met."

"What characteristics would you tell him, then?"

Aubrey responded after a short pause. "Musical - that one's a given; stubborn, talented, messy-"

"- hey," Beca protested.

"_kind,"_ Aubrey continued. "Attentive, awkward-"

"- awkward!"

The table chuckled. "Okay, not awkward - but you act funny when you're uncomfortable." Aubrey said.

"It's totally cute." Denise added, nodding with approval.

Aubrey smirked, repeating her with an even tone. "_Totally_."

"So you produce music, right?" John asked.

Beca shifted, wondering why all the conversation was revolving around her. "Yeah,"

"I can't say I've heard your work before." John responded.

At this point Denise piped up. "_What?_ Beca's all over the radio - you obviously don't get out much."

John turned to the smaller blonde. "And what is it that _you_ do?" He asked, with a hint of condescension.

Denise squared her shoulders. "I'm a model. Haven't you seen my billboards?"

"No."

"Or that new Axe commercial?"

"Don't those commercials feature men?"

"And hot women in the background!" Denise defended.

John brushed it off. "Subjectively speaking."

"And now we're back to you not getting out much." Denise trailed off.

Beca mentally slapped a hand to her forehead. She had a feeling that this was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Beca laid in her bed, eying the blonde sleeping next to her. She had shoved a pillow between Denise and herself to reinforce the boundaries of personal space and comfort zone. The girl had face-planted into her mattress and was sleeping before Beca could even put her keys on the bedside table.

It had been an interesting evening. An interesting, awkward, and socially painful evening.

Denise and John had bickered like a couple going through a divorce - not agreeing on anything, challenging each other's statements, and then eventually subtly insulting one another. After it was established that they didn't want to associate, Denise's attention turned to ordering more wine and throwing herself onto Beca. This, in turn, seemed to bother Aubrey and set off some weird competition for Beca's attention. The ordeal progressed into a who-knows-Beca-better game - a competition that ended up completely fucktarded because Denise knew Beca from her old partying days, and Aubrey knew Beca from her recent hermit days, causing them to argue even more.

And all the while, John sat there, eating his pasta. He tried to be a gentleman and strike up conversation with Beca every now and then, but the brunette quickly learned to hate his condescending tone. Maybe he didn't know how to talk to people outside of his lawyer social circle - like a douchebag who didn't know he was a douchebag. The only time he sounded genuinely nice was when he was talking to Aubrey. Which Beca supposed was a good thing, seeing as they were engaged and all . . .

Regardless, things probably couldn't have gone worse.

In fact, Beca hadn't really had a chance to really talk to Aubrey at dinner. So there she was laying in bed with a model - one that was obviously into her - but thinking about a completely different girl. It seemed strange because only a couple months ago Beca would've been content with just the model. Just Denise for a night, and maybe Denise for another night sometime in the future. But now all Beca could think about was how she was laying next to the wrong blonde.

Beca shook her head. She'd be damned if she lost sleep over Aubrey Posen of all people. If she hadn't ran into Aubrey in the record shop, things would probably be back to the way they were before her DUI. And then she wouldn't have to worry about all this _relationship stuff_. She always hated the word relationship, anyways. What a stupid word.

Beca almost laughed.

Aubrey had turned her into a damn stereotype - a whole bunch of stereotypes, actually:

- The lesbian who goes for the straight girl;

- The girl who ends up crushing on her best friend;

- The alt who falls for the prep.

She might as well be in one of those predictable rom coms. . . On the plus side, those movies usually had a happy ending.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Beca checked her text messages yet again. Nothing new. She didn't really expect Aubrey to text her this late into the night anyways. The two hadn't spoken since dinner ended a couple hours ago - when Beca got into the taxi with a too-drunk Denise. She managed to wave goodbye through the window before Denise decided to wrap her arms around Beca's neck and pull her from view. Amidst the sloppy take down, Beca could've sworn she'd saw Aubrey cross her arms in disapproval.

Beca wondered if Aubrey was angry with her. Beca didn't know why Aubrey would be angry, but she did seem to be acting strange at dinner. She had no doubt that Aubrey had secretly judged Denise with the same thoroughness that she had judged John with. Beca figured that Aubrey, the feral captain of control, wasn't a fan of her out-of-control date. Or something like that.

Whatever.

She wasn't good at this analyzing business anyways. This was usually the point in which she'd realize her feelings, and then run as far away as possible.

Beca Mitchell rolling around, pining over some taken woman? Hell no.

Usually.

But this was a different Beca now. One that wasn't as good at being the stone hard titanium that had gotten her by thus far. Maybe she was tired of putting aside her feelings to get ahead in life. She had left her college friends, and ended up missing them. She hadn't spoken to her dad in ages - the one who had helped her get to LA in the first place. And all for what? A massive social circle of shallow friendships?

Beca was hardly aware that she had pulled up Aubrey's name on her contact list, her thumb hovering above the 'call' button. She was thinking too much and she knew the only person that could calm her down was her best friend. Regardless if that happened to be Aubrey.

After dialing the number, she listened to the ring patiently.

"Hello?" Aubrey's sleepy voice answered.

Beca felt herself smile at the sound. There was something about Aubrey's tired voice that Beca loved - it was vulnerable and raw, so unlike her usual tone. Plus, a sleepy Aubrey was an unguarded one - one that Beca assumed Aubrey would be like if she hadn't grown up in an expectant home, with a near-dictatorial father. It was nice to see past that steely layer that Aubrey wore like armor. "Hey, sorry did I wake you? I forgot that it's late . . . and I kind of just called." She said with a low voice, being careful not to stir Denise from her sleep.

"That's fine, Beca."

"Alright. You sound nice by the way. When you're sleepy, I mean. And all the other times too. Uhh," Beca squeezed her eyes shut, inwardly cursing her inability to form intelligent sentences. She didn't even know what she was trying to accomplish.

"Thanks. You too."

There was a bit of shuffling, and then the faint sound of Aubrey yawning in the background.

"Do you need something?" Aubrey asked, when she returned the phone to her ear. She was probably wondering why Beca was calling her in the middle of the night.

"Uhh, no."

"Oh,"

"I just wanted to talk." Beca took in a breath through her teeth. "I missed you."

There was a short pause. "I missed you too."

"Are you alone right now?"

"No," Aubrey said. "John's sleeping beside me. You?"

"No." Beca repeated, taking another glance at Denise's sleeping form. "Denise is beside me."

"Hmm."

They stayed like that for a while. Silent. It was comfortable, just listening to the soft sound of each other's breathing on the other line. Beca was sure Aubrey was falling asleep again. She closed her own eyes - she could fall asleep to this, too. It was weird; they were in two different beds with two different partners, yet there they were - whispering on the phone with each other in the middle of the night. Beca felt herself just about to drift off when her friend broke the silence.

"Your friend seems fun." Aubrey said quietly.

Beca let out an exasperated "Yeah. . ."; she raked her fingers over her eyes. The girl probably did _wonders_ for her first impression on John. "I won't be bringing her out again."

"She likes you a lot." Aubrey said. It was a statement; Aubrey had said in a way that had Beca wondering what she was really getting at. Did she want her to agree with it? Deny it? Perhaps she was wondering if Beca liked Denise back.

"She likes everyone a lot. That's sort of her problem." Beca said, leaving it at that. She didn't want to get into any back stories about this girl. (Not that she wouldn't have an ample amount of things to say about Denise)

Aubrey let out a short, dismissive "Hmm."

"I'd rather just hang out with you, you know." Beca said, as if that would clear the air. She could think of 100 reasons why hanging out with Aubrey one on one would have been better than going to dinner with her fiancee and Beca's ex.

"You mean without the 90-pound paperweight on your lap?" Aubrey said, and Beca could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

"I take it she bothered you at dinner." Beca said.

"Immensely." Aubrey confirmed. Her answer was curt, as if it summed up the entire night.

"I'm sorry about that. I assumed she would show more inhibition than she did."

"It's not your fault, Beca. I wasn't that nice to her either. I mean, it's no secret that I can get a little aggressive sometimes."

Beca almost snorted. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She deadpanned.

"I just - I don't know." Aubrey confessed. "I just wanted to dropkick her across the room when I saw her all over you. You clearly weren't interested - thank goodness your senses have cleared up - and you deserve better than that. I felt like I needed to let her know that she wasn't good enough for you."

The brunette let out a sound of surprise. Up until this point, Beca didn't even think Aubrey was interested in her love life - much less chasing away unfit partners for her. Maybe if they'd had known each other a couple years ago, Beca could've avoided more than one bad lesbian melodrama. "You don't think she's good enough for me?"

"Not a chance." Aubrey breathed. "And if I have anything to do with it, the girl who gets to go home with you is gonna be damn worth your time. I don't want to see you end up with just any girl with a pretty face."

Beca swallowed hard, feeling like she was hearing something that Aubrey wouldn't want her to know. She could tell Aubrey was very tired, and wondered if they'd be having this conversation if Aubrey's guard wasn't down. Hell, they probably wouldn't be having this conversation if Beca wasn't so tired herself. Regardless, she enjoyed it, taking in what she could. She knew that Aubrey cared about her, but hearing her say it somehow solidified it. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't go for girls like that anymore." Beca offered.

"Good. Then I don't have to drop kick anybody."

Beca smiled. She loved how protective Aubrey could be sometimes. She always admired that in her, even back in college. She'd seen it countless times before - Aubrey going off on a boy who had hurt Chloe's feelings (and God help _everybody_ if someone made the redhead cry), Aubrey standing up to Bumper and the rest of the Trebles when they insulted the Bellas; and even for herself, when she would rip to pieces anyone who crossed her without justification. Aubrey was loyal. She looked out for the people she cared about, perhaps finding use for all that aggressive energy.

There was a pause before Aubrey spoke again on her own accord. "There's another thing." She started, speaking slow. Hesitant.

"What's that?"

"Well, I didn't like Denise for a lot of reasons . . . but there's one thing that kept bothering me the entire night. Seeing you with her just made me realize how our friendship is such a small part of your life. Our lifestyles are so different. There's a giant aspect of your life and career that I know nothing about. You're not really working right now, but you're already getting back into it. You have a whole different realm of people you know, thing's you'll be doing, and places you'll be. What we have here is just a tiny fraction of a life you put on hold. And when you get back. . . Well, it's obvious."

Beca listened intently. This was the first time Aubrey had shown any insecurity before, and Beca was startled. How could Aubrey think that what they had was just a small fraction of her life? Sure, she had this entire other culture to go back to whenever it was that she went back to work, but it would never be like the way it was before. "Wait, you've got it all wrong." Beca started. Regardless of the fact that she liked Aubrey, the friendship itself meant so much to her. She wasn't planning on ending it so soon; she had already done that seven years ago. She wanted to make Aubrey understand; how could she possibly walk away from this? The thought in itself was a sour note.

"Aubrey, our friendship means more to me than you could ever know. The way I was living before . . . I can't go back to that. Not after what I've learned in the past six months. I don't like the person I was before, or the people around me. I was a mess. My job was everything - everyone I knew, everything I loved; it was was the only thing I had . . . and then it was taken away from me. And nobody, _not one person_ was there when I left. Luke bailed me out of jail just because he didn't want bad media coverage - he was doing his_ job_. I took things for granted and put so much value into things that never ended up meaning anything. No one's missed me, and I don't blame them. But now, for the first time in a long time, I've found something that actually matters to me. I've found some_one_ that matters to me. The only person who I like being around is _you_."

There was a silence that followed, as Aubrey calculated her response. It unnerved Beca. It wasn't much, but it was the most honest she's been in a very long time. She wasn't good at this touchy-feely stuff; terrible, even. Instead, Beca just listened to the heartbeat resounding in her ears.

Slow and strong.

When Aubrey spoke again, her words were measured and cautious. "I like being around you too, Beca. More than I should."

Beca smiled. She of all people knew about liking someone more than she should.

"But," Aubrey continued. "It's a little unnerving, isn't it? I've learned that even the strongest friends can part ways. I mean, after Chloe -"

"- Aubrey," Beca interrupted, knowing where she was going with this. "I'm not going to leave you like Chloe did. I'm staying right here, with you. I swear."

"Yeah, but you never-"

Beca cut her off again. "- No. I _swear_, Bree. . . I know you don't talk about it, but I can tell it hurt you that Chloe left. I know how hard it is to be so close to someone, and then have them move on. But I don't want to do that and I don't intend to. And I need you. So I swear, I'm not going anywhere."

There was another stretch of silence, and Beca wondered if she had crossed a line. Aubrey had never outwardly said that she'd been upset by Chloe, it was just Beca reading in between the lines. She figured that much anyways. How can you have a friendship that close, and then _not_ be winded when they leave? It would be like having a chunk ripped out of you. Perhaps that's why Aubrey gravitated towards Beca; because despite being the polar opposite of Chloe Beale, Beca and all her strange quirks somewhat filled that void. Maybe that's even why Aubrey could tolerate the invasion of personal space on occasion, or the constant talking and hanging out - because if Beca was bad on that front, she had it 100 times worse with Chloe.

"I could hug you right now, Beca Mitchell." Aubrey said.

The brunette smiled at the simplicity of Aubrey's response. She didn't elaborate or argue, as she was so prone to doing; she just accepted Beca's promise as it was.

"Well, you seem to be in the wrong bed." Beca said, sounding more bold than she felt.

There was a sleepy laugh, muffled by what Beca assumed what Aubrey putting her face into a pillow.

"Maybe I am." She replied.

* * *

**Alllllrighty. **

**Totally not bashing on Chloe or anything, I love her; I'm just setting up for a possible Triple Treble sequel fic after this one haha. Who knows. I like a happy ending for everyone. **

**On another note, I wanted to write this chapter because I really wanted Beca and Aubrey to connect. I wanted to show a side of Aubrey that was maybe a bit unsure and a bit vulnerable, to show that she does value Beca's friendship greatly and even demonstrates her need for reassurance and security. **

**Anyways, let me know what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Good lord this chapter was hard to hammer out. Not that I had any time to write, either. Anyways, here you go! **

**Also, I edited the first chapter a lot (mainly changing the first little part). It's because I was reading it and realized I forgot to write in that they took an elevator to Beca's flat. So it looked like they climbed up 6 whole flights of stairs, haha. So I ended up just editing the whole piece anyways. **

* * *

Beca felt the bass-heavy music reverberating through her body. She felt at ease in the booth, looking down at the dancing crowd below her. The hundreds of people on the dance floor looked like one giant blob of colours, rippling as she set her track up for another drop. She liked DJ-ing on occasion - there was nothing like watching the whole dance floor adjust to her sound; being able to manipulate the crowd and get them excited for the peaks and drops. It always came with such a rush.

She saw, rather than heard Luke behind her, knocking on the door (or more accurately, tapping his beer bottle against the glass). Beca gestured for him to come in, moving one side of her headphones to rest behind her ear so she could hear him.

He stepped in, beckoning in a brown-haired man to follow.

"Beca," He greeted, speaking loudly over the din of the club. The guy standing beside him waved.

"Luke," Beca replied. She gave a lazy glance to the man with him, deciding she should acknowledge him too. "Stranger." She added.

"This is Caleb; he's gonna take over for the night." Luke said, ignoring the sudden look of distaste from Beca. He gestured for him to start setting up his equipment, in which Caleb did without a word.

Beca watched him with a sour expression, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why?" She demanded.

Luke chuckled at her agression, and instead handed Beca his beer. "Relax. Here, I got you a drink; let's take a walk."

Beca shot a cautious look to her mixing equipment and laptop, accepting the beer carefully.

"Stop looking like you're being robbed. Your stuff will be here when we get back, trust me." Luke said.

"I'm still booked for another hour, though."

Luke waved it off with an outstretched hand. "There are bigger fish to fry; come on." He said, making a move to leave the booth.

Beca rolled her eyes, removing the headphones from her head and placing them by her computer. There was nothing more irritating than being interrupted when you're in the middle of a session. She gave the Caleb guy a warning look before following Luke out the door (Lord help him if anything is misplaced). Beca had to hustle for a few steps to catch up to Luke in the hallway.

"What's this about?" Beca asked, trailing behind him. She cradled her beer to prevent it from being jarred out of her hand by various people. Pushing past them reminded her of why she preferred to be on the stage side of a crowd.

Luke maneuvered his way through the hall, leading Beca to the VIP lounge. "Your mixes sound really good tonight. Better than usual, Beca."

Beca squeezed through a group of drunk men, barely emerging through the other side.

"Randy Sift happens to be here tonight, and asked who was DJ-ing." Luke said. "I told him it was Beca Mitchell, and he was ecstatic. He asked to speak with you."

"Randy Sift?" Beca repeated, stopping in her tracks. "From New Rendition Records?"

Luke kept walking, only to look over his shoulder and sigh impatiently at the immobile Beca. "Yes, that's the one. Now come on before you get plowed down by these drunk idiots." He said, walking back to clap a hand on her shoulder. He lead her forward until they reached the doorway.

Upon arriving, Luke parked Beca in front of the red velvet doors and towered over her.

"Randy Sift rejected me, last time I checked." Beca said, speaking up at his looming figure.

"He's over it. Things like these happen all the time, and he gets that." Luke replied.

Beca sucked the inside of her teeth in irritation. "Over it? NR dropped me like I was nothing; completely disposable."

"And you _are_ disposable." Luke said, reminding her of the nature of the job. "So let's make you in-disposable."

Beca crossed her arms. "Well to be honest, I'm not really interested right now. I've got some stuff I've been working on and I think it's got a real good chance of selling."

"Beca, listen up." Luke started, sighing as if he was reprimanding a kid. "You get an opportunity like this, and it doesn't matter if you're working on other stuff. Who cares if you're interested or not. _Get_ interested. He was talking about some new projects for the label, and I think there's a really good chance he might be tossing around the idea of a contract. Do you understand what that means?"

Beca nodded tersely, trapped underneath Luke's towering figure. She understood exactly what it meant. It meant that if Randy was interested, this could be her chance for a comeback since the DUI. New Rendition had dropped her from their label only half a year ago - a second chance to work for them this soon was a rare opportunity. One that could be game-changing for her career.

So Beca found it strange that instead of being excited, she felt herself inwardly groaning at the prospect.

Sure, it would kick start her career back to her former glory and build her brand; not to mention it had always been her label of choice . . . But she wasn't sure if she wanted that anymore. The whole _'hot shot'_ deal. Going back to all that noise seemed like a chore, rather than an opportunity.

In fact, Beca had grown comfortable in her simple routine - spinning here and there, working from home, living a rather low key life. Maybe she was slipping back into her natural introverted disposition. She _liked_ doing her own thing.

And it wasn't like she hadn't been productive, either. Her and Aubrey had gone back to the studio and completed their tracks just the other week; the blonde had even been helping her with most of her other material for the past couple months (who knew Aubrey had a knack for modern-day music). She had more than one USB of tracks that could make a client go platinum. And besides; Beca had enough money to live comfortably without getting back into her old work habits.

Then again, working with the best can be addicting. And undoubtedly, NR was the most successful label out there.

The logical part of her mind urged her to jump through that door and tell Randy exactly what he and Luke wanted to hear - that she'd love to team up with New Rendition Records and give the whole '_glam_' thing another shot. The other part of her mind knew that she'd just be acting.

The expectant look on Luke's face told her it'd be hard to explain why she wanted to pass up the opportunity. But that was a given. The likelihood of hell freezing over was greater than the likelihood of Beca getting any of her own ideas through Luke's thick skull. Anyhow, it was worth a shot.

"I know that this is what we've been working towards since, well - _ever_. But I don't want to jump into this just yet. It's a little quick - impulsive, even; don't you think?" Beca said, half reasoning with Luke, half reasoning with herself.

Luke's answer was curt. "No."

Oh.

"It's just not a good time. I'm unsure if-" Beca started, but she was interrupted quickly.

" - There's nothing to be uncertain about, Beca. Make a good first impression, and he might put you back on the grid. You could get your game back." Luke said, his impatience evident. His steely blue eyes were as unrelenting as his personality.

"But-"

"- But nothing. You need to fix what you broke. So you're gonna put your mid-life crisis self to the side, and give me the marketable Beca that I can actually sell. You will agree with all the stupid things he says, laugh at all the stupid jokes he makes, and kiss the ground he walks on if you have to in order to get that contract. We can't afford to mess this up. Do you get it?" Luke finished, emphasizing the last four words with separately. He squared his jaw at the brunette as if to remind her that he was still in charge.

A mini stare-down had blue against blue, and Beca reluctantly caved.

"I get it." Beca breathed.

Luke nodded. "Good. Come on, then." He said, pushing open the door and letting her walk in first.

She took a deep breath, trying to push down the anxiety building in her stomach.

* * *

Beca had learned a long time ago how to deal with people in the entertainment industry. It was like they all came out of the same cookie-cutter mold: loud, flashy, excitable, and more often than not, fake. She could deal. She'd been talking her way in and out of gigs with honchos like these for years now. It was a game - how to sell yourself out without really selling yourself out. Except this time, she just wanted to make her way through the meeting. This largely involved acting.

So when Randy Sift held his arms out and exclaimed with a loud, booming voice "_There she is_! Beca Mitchell!", Beca smiled warmly instead of projectile vomiting on his shoes.

"Randy Sift, it's good to finally meet you." She said, shaking his hand before taking a seat in on the adjacent couch. She felt a little phony and out of place; maybe because her head hadn't been in this game for a long time. She wish she had more time to prep and contemplate if she wanted '_back in_'. But she supposed she could think about her feelings later.

Randy adjusted his sunglasses, sporting a grin that nearly split his face in half. "The pleasure is all mine. I heard this DJ spinning an amazing track, and knew I found the person I was looking for. Then lo and behold, it turns out to be Beca Mitchell. It must be my lucky day."

Beca returned the grin, trying to ease into the persona she had spent the last five years perfecting. Not much luck in that department. "Here I am;" She breathed, leaning back into the arm of her chair.

"Of course. You know what, Mitchell? You're very talented."

"And you're very successful." Beca countered.

Randy's chin raised ever so slightly at the praise. "I do enjoy success. I assume all people do - which is why successful people band together. Pool ideas, talents, money, and influence to create even more money and influence. A person is only as good as their resources." He said, thoughtfully.

"Or the people around them." Beca said. She looked down the barrel of her beer bottle, having almost forgotten about the beverage. She figured it was true - a person is only as good as their resources; but the company they keep defines them more than their bank account ever could. A person's social circle is often a reflection of their values.

Randy's gaze flicked towards her, like a snake darting out its tongue. "Like I said, resources." He replied, a sly grin growing from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you know why I asked to see you?" He asked, his voice a little too suave and velvety. Like a flower that was sickly sweet.

"Not too sure." Beca replied. It was a lie, seeing as anybody with half a working brain could figure out why he'd want to see her. But she'd let him bring it up.

Randy scooted forward on his chair and pressed his fingers together in deep concern. His glasses fell down the bridge of his nose just enough to let Beca see his brown eyes, peeking from behind Versace. "I've decided my business needs you." He said. Randy maintained eye contact, waiting for Beca's response.

In the small pause, Beca felt past wounds reopening. Of course Luke had told her that he was interested in hiring her, but hearing him say it for himself made her a bit bitter. _Now_ he wanted her? Like he hadn't already shot_ that_ horse in the face.

"You turned me down." Beca said blandly, maybe sounding a bit more disinterested than she intended.

Randy looked a bit taken aback, but his casual composure did not falter. Instead, he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back to look at Luke who had been lingering by the glass wall. "Where did you get this one? I like her."

Luke merely shrugged; a small, warning smile playing on his lips as if to remind Beca of their earlier conversation. "She sort of just goes where she pleases, this one."

Randy had another laugh before turning his attention back to Beca. She swore his white vest was going to blind her by the end of the night. "Tell me, what have you been up to? You've been off the scene for - what now, half a year?"

Beca took a sip of her beer before answering.

"More or less. I spent a lot of time volunteering at a dog shelter-" Beca began to say, but immediately stopped herself upon receiving a sharp shake of the head from Luke. Apparently that wasn't good conversational material. "But mostly I've been working on some new mixes." Beca said, recovering quickly. Maybe she was a bit rusty at this stuff.

"New material!" Randy boomed, nodding eagerly. "That's what I like to hear. The industry is bleak right now; heading off in a touchy-feely direction that isn't much fun to dance to, if you know what I mean. We need music that's going to energize people. The type that can't be ignored. I want to get people off their feet with fresh music; something really exciting."

"You have a new project in mind?" Beca asked.

"Of course! A man like me always has ten new projects in the back of his mind." He said, looking pleased with himself.

"Lucky you." Beca murmured.

Randy stretched out his arm, gesturing for one of the servers to pass him his glass of scotch. He nearly downed the whole glass before turning his attention back to Beca. "Where do you get your inspiration from? What's the motivation behind your music?" He asked.

Beca shifted, taking another swig from her beer while she contemplated. There were a number of ways she could answer that question.

First and foremost, she usually just mixed whatever she thought sounded good. That was basic.

Secondly, her latest sound incorporated a lot of old hits - her time off had given her some opportunities to go back to her collection and listen to songs she enjoyed from long ago. In fact, she took a lot of ideas from her old mixes that she had made back in college - the days where she'd do anything to get her name out there.

Lastly, and perhaps the most defining characteristic of her new music, is how she mirrored the peaks and drops of her tracks to match the ups and downs of her life. With her recent introspection on what she wanted in life - her career and her relationships - she was in a constant state of uncertainty. Her music was a reflection of that.

She supposed that that was the aspect which shaped her music the most. Randy seemed to interpret it as 'exciting'.

"Life in general, I guess. The struggles we face, as well as the joys." Beca finally responded, dumbing it down.

"Spoken like a true artist." Randy smiled warmly. "Experiences from your blossoming career, I take it."

"In part. I was mostly referring to the company we keep." Beca said, correcting him.

He clapped his hands together. "Of course! Those we hold dear can influence us deeply; their presence seeps into our work like a vine. It's inevitable. Though people can motivate us as easily as they can deter us from our goals. Am I right?" He asked, almost musing to himself. An air of dreamy wonder filled his words, accompanied by a toothy grin.

Beca resisted the urge to make a face. That's not exactly what she was getting at, but maybe they weren't completely on the same page. "I guess." Beca said.

Randy shuffled forward to the edge of his seat, and gathered up Beca's hands in his own. She could feel the cold steel of his bulky rings pressing against the outside of her fingers, frozen in his gentle trap. "Let's not beat around the bush, Mitchell. I know you've got what it takes. I've listened to you spin for half an hour and you blew me away. Imagine what we could do in months; in years even, down the road. You can be part of my initiative to reinvent mainstream music; you can be a little piece of my revolution and together we can change the music industry. What do you say, Beca? Would you be interested in joining New Rendition Records?"

Beca removed her hands from his grasp, placing back on her own lap. She plastered a small smile to her face before responding.

"I'll think about it, Randy."

* * *

Beca was packing up her equipment in the booth, getting ready to call it a night. From her peripheral she could see Luke approaching, wearing an unimpressed expression. It was bad enough she had to spend another half hour with that weirdo, Randy. Now she probably wouldn't hear the end of it from Luke. She braced herself as he entered the room.

"You'll _think about it_?" Luke repeated. Leaning with his arm outstretched to the wall as if to barricade her in. "Randy Sift walks into the club, specifically asks for you, then offers you a partnership to your all but crashing career and you tell him you'll '_think about it'_?"

Luke's presence only made Beca pack faster. She wrapped up her cords neatly before tucking them into her equipment bag. "You heard correctly." Beca said. She clapped her notebook shut, slipping it into its case.

"You went against everything we talked about." Luke said, his irritation evident in his voice and balled up fist. "You clearly misunderstood me when I said that we needed this to be a done deal."

Beca made eye contact with him for the first time since he'd barged in. "You talked over me that whole conversation. I told you I wasn't ready to accept his offer. I need to think about it." Beca said, her volume rising. She was pissed off at him. He clearly didn't care about what she wanted. He hardly ever did.

It had been that way ever since college, and it was only now that Beca realized it. How many times had he made her change for her job? Pursue other ventures that weren't what she actually wanted? Countless. Of course, he always said it was for her career. And maybe it was. But she was over it. One would think that by working with the same manager for over 7 years, she'd grow some sort of symbiotic relationship to balance wants with needs. Not in this case. Beca had as much of a relationship with Luke as she did with Aubrey's drill sergeant of a father (who, mind you, she's never even met). The only thing that's held them together this long is that fact that they had both been zealously ambitious, and thus a widely successful team. And maybe that was Luke's forte - making logical choices that lead to success.

But she wasn't going to just be some product to sell to the highest bidder.

"_New Rendition Records_." Luke said, emphasizing every separate word. "That _is_ the end of the road. The be all. You will never work for a more successful label. What the hell's gotten into you lately?"

"Nothing."

"You're deliberately staying off the scene. Your friends haven't seen you in ages, you don't come out to events, you won't take any new clients, and you're obsessed with working on irrelevant side projects. Do you care about your career at all anymore?" He said, firing off.

Beca furrowed her eyebrows as she packed the last of her things.

"It's my life, and my career; I can do what I want with it." She stated firmly.

Luke let out a humorless snort. He paused for a moment, recollecting himself before giving Beca a stern warning. His voice was hard and cutting.

"I am still your manager, and you are still under our label. I can have another shit-for-brains DJ to manage with a snap of my fingers and I can make them a god damn star. You are not exempt. So unless you want to be dropped by the last company that wants your affiliation, you're going to send Randy some demos_ by tomorrow_, or I will put my time into someone else who actually has ambition." His voice was terse. "Do you understand me?"

* * *

If Beca's night at the club had been shitty, her morning was even worse. Not only did she have a killer hangover from the excessive back-to-apartment drinking, but she had apparently forgotten about her lunch meeting with Aubrey. Which is why when her phone rang for five consecutive minutes, an impatient Aubrey was on the other line.

"If you are still in bed I will rip you from your sheets!" Came the near-screech upon answering the call. "It's nearly 11:30am, half the day is gone and I am on a _schedule_."

Beca groaned, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbow.

"I'm not in bed." Beca lied. She looked around the room, squinting because the sun was spewing through her blinds. Her room was a giant mess. When she'd returned last night she had thrown some dinner in the microwave, popped open a beer (or three), and quickly put together a zip file of tracks to send to Randy. Sometime between rolling around in bed with Kraft Dinner and 4am infomercials, Beca had finally been able to sleep.

"Of course not." Aubrey drawled, and Beca could only imagine she was rolling her eyes. "Are you ready to come out now, or do I have to peel you from your mattress?"

"I've been awake for 30 seconds, Bree."

"And?"

Beca sighed. Of course, who wouldn't want to be terrorized by Aubrey first thing in the morning?

"I'll buzz you up." She said.

It took all of 60 seconds for Aubrey to be buzzed in, take the elevator, and barge through Beca's door. At which point Beca was only halfway through deciding if she wanted to brush her teeth or get dressed first.

Beca tossed a sleepy glance at Aubrey. "Hey," She said, her voice still hoarse.

Aubrey ignored the greeting, overwhelmed by the state of disarray in Beca's room. How one could mindlessly throw so many dirty clothes on the floor was beyond her. "I don't see you for a week and _this_ is what happens?" She said, a stern little pout forming on her lips. She immediately started gathering up the nearest clothes.

"Oh hey, you can just leave it. I'll get to it later this week." Beca said from her bedside. She scanned the floor, looking for her pair of black jeans.

"You'll drown in this later this week; don't you have a hamper?"

Beca shrugged. "It's full."

"Good Lord," Aubrey muttered, attempting to make a some semblance of order in the wasteland.

Beca watched the blonde flit about the room, picking up beer bottles and wrappers alike. Aubrey pulled a crumpled pair of pants from behind the bedside table. "Oh, those are clean." Beca said, taking them from Aubrey's grasp. She proceeded to put them on, smoothing out the wrinkles in the black fabric.

"For serious, Beca?" The blonde asked, totally grossed out.

Beca just jumped off the bed and headed to the washroom. "Dixie Chicks serious." She said, as she brushed past her friend.

It only took Beca a couple minutes to brush her teeth, push her bangs out of her face with a headband, and throw some eyeliner on; but when she went back to her room, Aubrey had already made good work of most of the mess. The blonde rolled her eyes at Beca's choice of outfit - just a simple plaid blouse with her jeans. No words needed for that exchange.

Aubrey stubbornly overdressed while Beca consistently underdressed and at that point, it was kind of just their thing.

They went for lunch at their usual Starbucks, each with their own sandwich and coffee. Aubrey was talking about some work party she had attended a couple days ago, mentioning some girl named Helen and some guy named Fred. She went on to talk about the lists of suggestions she'd made for her yoga instructor to improve their teaching methods, and how she probably needed to buy more work out attire. And then she talked about some fundraising plans for a charity that High Note was helping to sponsor.

Beca ate her sandwich as she listened. She preferred it this way. She was more of a listener than a talker, anyhow. And when Aubrey wasn't busy calculating a total, or making a timeline, or creating lists in her mind, she was probably the most talkative person Beca knew. How somebody could have so much going on in their head at once, yet be so particular about it all, still amazed Beca.

Now she was talking about budgeting plans for the new fiscal year. That was around the point she usually lost Beca. So instead, Beca put in the appropriate nod here and there and just let her talk it out. Not that she minded. She enjoyed every bit of Aubrey's presence. The way she talked with her hands, how expressive her face got, how she was one of those people who hold their food while they talk for 10 minutes without taking a bite.

She wondered if she was staring too long - if she seemed too into a conversation that they both knew she didn't understand. In which case, she wondered if Aubrey knew she liked her. To Beca, it was down right obvious - but Aubrey had a habit of missing things right in front of her.

"Have you ever heard of Alpha Records?" Aubrey asked.

Beca nodded. "The independent label that made a little noise, but ended up going under. Right?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Aubrey said. "It's actually owned by a friend of mine. And by a friend of mine, I mean I haven't talked to him in like 3 years. But he contacted me earlier this week, looking for a partnership. What do you think?"

"A revival project?" Beca asked. "Do you have time for that?"

Aubrey shrugged thoughtfully. "It was what we were planning with Bayside. Though Alpha would be a little harder to kickstart."

Beca finished chewing her bite of sandwich. She hadn't told Aubrey about New Rendition's offer yet, but she knew they had major expansion plans. A little pup like Alpha couldn't stand a chance in the market. "I don't know, Bree. Alpha struggled at best; there are too many good labels out there." Beca said. The last thing she wanted was to see her friend invest in a dying company.

"Yeah, but that was before they had _me_ running the project." Aubrey said.

Then again, with that kind of confidence, Beca figured they might have a chance.

There was a short buzz from Aubrey's phone as it lit up with a text message. Beca could see John's name before Aubrey scooped her phone from the table to read it. Her face quickly turned to one of irritation. "Ugh." She breathed, started to type her reply.

"Is something wrong?" Beca asked, wondering what had upset her.

"John," Aubrey muttered, finishing her message before continuing. "He's gonna be stuck in New Orleans for another week."

"Oh, miss him?" Beca asked.

Aubrey gave her a look, as if she'd just said something that insulted her intelligence. "Please, I hardly noticed he was gone." Aubrey said, moving her hair behind her shoulder as if _that_ would assert her independence. "We were supposed to go up to my parent's summer house this weekend. Family tradition. But he couldn't close his client because some complications so he has to stay."

"Sorry to hear." Beca said. Though it didn't surprise her that John was the type of person to put work before family time, or whatever. "Summer house, though. That sounds like a good time."

Aubrey laughed. "If you call landscaping my aunt's giant vegetable garden a good time. Though once that's done, hanging out by the water is pretty nice. It's also the only time you can get more than three Posens in a house at the same time."

Beca laughed as well, because if Aubrey actually relaxing for once was hard to imagine, picturing her gardening was next to impossible. "I wish I still had a cottage to go up to. I haven't been on a boat for years."

"Did you want to come?" Aubrey asked.

Beca looked at Aubrey's face to see if her offer was serious. Which it seemed to be. "Really?" Beca asked, approaching it with skepticism.

"Yeah, why not? If you're not busy this weekend. John's not coming, so I'd be forced to partake in all my family's activities that are more often than not laborious." She mused.

"So you want to have me as a family excuse?" Beca asked, a smile playing at her lips.

"No, I want to have you for good company." Aubrey offered.

There was a small pause.

"Would your parents mind?" Beca asked.

Aubrey shook her head. "No, my mom loves company and my dad will be working in New York. It'll mostly just be my aunt's family."

Beca thought about it briefly. She supposed she could push her weekend plans off into the work week. Though the thought of meeting the Posens was a little petrifying, a weekend with Aubrey by the water didn't sound bad at all. Plus, she could use a break from her stressful week so far.

After a little more deliberation Beca nodded. "Sure. I'll come."

* * *

**Will go back and edit later. Off to enjoy the sunny day!**


End file.
